I Stand in Shadows
by Valairy Scot
Summary: An introspective piece in 1st Person POV (Dooku): he watches, reflects, and decides to turn his back on the Order. Another one from the vault (2008).


**I Stand in Shadows**

It was not until I stood in the shadows that my final decision was made.

I'd been on the edge, debating back and forth. Things needed to change – and change would never come, not from the Jedi Order, not from the Senate. I had met a man who held out hope, but something – someone - tied me to the Order. Now that tie was severed.

Now, when it was too late, I understood that deep down he had truly meant something to me. I had not allowed myself to feel it. I did not want to feel it. Only now, did I know otherwise.

It was too many decades too late to know or to speak. I could have cut my silence when I cut the braid. Now, it was all too late.

Qui-Gon Jinn, my padawan, walked the galaxy no more. He no longer belonged to the Order, he belonged to the Force. I myself no longer needed to belong to the Order. Both our times had come to dissolve that tie.

In that, at least, we were alike. In that only, we were alike. We were not alike, he and I, and I had never been able to mold him into the great Jedi he might have been. Despite me, despite himself, he became one anyway.

_Oh, my padawan_.

His absence cut deeper than the chill air of the hangar as I stood in the shadows, watching as the Temple ship landed. First the Council disembarked. Of course, they would be first. They were always first, always right, and always preeminent.

Then they came – one who walks in light and one who walks in the shadows. Hand in hand they came and I wondered if the light was strong enough to banish the shadows or if the shadows were strong enough to dim the light.

But _he_ never came.

He had already gone, gone to the Force, his body ash on another planet. I was not there; I did not need to be there. All that needed to be said between us had been said long ago or would never be said at all.

My eyes flickered back, back to my padawan's padawan and now his padawan as well. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker.

Many times I had seen the boy; never had I met him. I sensed Qui-Gon wanted it that way, as if he feared the heavy hand of his master would reach to the padawan he reached only with a gentle hand.

I disapproved of Qui-Gon's relationship with the boy, though few knew of it. A padawan was a learner, not a companion and not a friend. Strict obedience and no coddling were my rules and my rules worked. I was proud of the Jedi Qui-Gon had become. Had I been friend and father to him, he would have been less of one. Had he not been friend and father to his padawan, what would Kenobi have become in time?

The boy had turned out well enough, considering, not the spoiled brat I would have expected him to be. He worked hard for Qui-Gon's approval and even harder when he got it. Qui-Gon worked hard to avoid my disapproval. Opposites we were, indeed, but it seemed both of us succeeded in our task. We both created Jedi.

The boy was a knight now. Rumor and gossip spread even amongst the Temple. His cowl was up, hiding the tell tale presence or absence of the braid. I could have severed it, this boy of my line – I wonder if he knew that. I wonder who did sever that braid, just as I wonder who was skilled enough to severe the bond between the boy and his master.

That severing had been anything but easy. With Qui-Gon and I, it had been a simple matter. A slash of a knife, a handshake and a quick dissolution. We both had turned away and it was done.

Kenobi nearly collapsed once duty was done, I had heard. I heard many rumors, and most presumably were not true.

Some were all too true. Kenobi had been knighted without trials, a boy whispered to be full of fear was now his padawan, and Qui-Gon Jinn was gone to the Force.

I miss him, my padawan. I had not expected to miss him so, and not after so many years of polite hellos and relieved good byes.

If I miss Qui-Gon, how deeply does Kenobi miss him? I study him as he pauses on the ramp. He is taking measure of his home, aware that though home has not changed, he has.

For one so young, his face is lined and weary. Grief is held tightly within. His bond was so much more with Qui-Gon than ever mine had been – it was a bond between teacher and learner, but it was a bond of deep respect and affection as well. Kenobi has indeed taken it hard, but he has taken it as a Jedi. Qui-Gon trained him well.

Well indeed, if rumor is correct that he has taken as his padawan this blond boy at his side, holding so tightly to Kenobi's hand that it must hurt them both. I know the rumors all too well – my padawan put aside his beloved padawan for this boy, put aside a vow for the sake of a prophecy. Qui-Gon gave up what he loved dearly and was given nothing in return – the Council denied him and the boy both. Had he lived, would he have lost Kenobi as well, or would the boy's too generous heart and forgiving spirit have mended that breach?

Perhaps fondness and affection have a power to heal that obedience and duty alone do not.

Kenobi kneels and speaks to the boy, a hand patting his shoulder. Ah, well trained indeed, for Kenobi has put aside his own feelings to comfort the boy, and the boy tries to smile back. Affection is blossoming there already. Shall affection defeat the shadows or shall affection only blind them?

Perhaps there is strength there, where I have thought to see only weakness.

I should have met this boy, no man, years ago. I have watched him, from the shadows, trying to understand why the Force drew Qui-Gon to him, why the boy practically worshiped Qui-Gon, and I find no answers but one – the Force willed it. Why I do not know.

The young boy smiles tremulously and squares his shoulders, he nods at Kenobi. He will be brave, this little one, he will cover his fears and anxieties with bravado. I am not fooled. The boy will not be easy to teach nor will he easily learn. He already sees his own path ahead of him and it is not the path the Jedi will lay before him.

I wonder, do they know? Does Kenobi know?

Did Qui-Gon know?

The boy looks around and our eyes meet. Recognition jolts through us both; shadows call to shadows.

"The One Who Shall Bring Balance." The words escape my lips, and I shiver. From fear or excitement? Qui-Gon was right. This boy is a fulcrum, all balances on his slim shoulders.

Perhaps it is time for change. I have seen the Senate waste time in useless debates; I see the Jedi's inability to keep order. Without order there is no peace. A firm hand is needed and order needs to be restored. No more petty bickering, no more jockeying for favors and Senate appropriations.

Senator Palpatine and I have together seen what needs to be done. Perhaps, perhaps this boy will help us achieve it.

I no longer have faith in the Senate – or the Jedi.

All that tied me to the Order is now ashes.

The shadows grow and deepen. Soon there will be little light left. I shiver, just a little, but my choice is made.

I turn away once more, into the shadows. This time, they close around me.


End file.
